


I Believe in Miracles

by Fledhyris



Series: One-shot Humour [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel lube, Creative power of Angelic Grace, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Non-explicit reference to past sex, Season/Series 04, The Impala has a Baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 09:24:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20374471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fledhyris/pseuds/Fledhyris
Summary: Dean and the Impala have a baby, via Castiel. No vehicle sex. Stuff gets down in between the seats, okay?Non-canon reference to Cas being severely injured which was an old, unfinished fic of mine. He's fine now, don't worry!Previously posted to LJ in 2009 as 'A Very Supernatural Miracle'. Standalone, not part of any of my AU series.Partly inspired by Jeff Noon's 'Vurt' series, for ‘Vaz’, the universal lubricant, and the hybridisation of just about anything people had sex with, while under the influence of sex pollen. This guy was writing long before most fandoms existed. There are no new ideas under the sun...





	I Believe in Miracles

Dean comes into the room, shoving awkwardly through the door because his hands are full and his attention is rapt on whatever he’s holding. He cradles it close to his chest, his expression… stunned, some strange mixture of adoration and shell-shock showing through the liberal smudges of oil. Sam comes over to look and Dean half turns a protective shoulder to shield his treasure, then seems to think better of it and suddenly thrusts it out towards Sam, hands trembling slightly. He doesn’t seem able to speak, just stares at Sam with wide, slightly crazy eyes, and Sam is beginning to be really worried, thinking that some vital part of the Impala has just given out and Dean will never be able to replace it, that this is it, he’s going to lose the greatest love of his life, and be inconsolable.

Sam looks down, at the sleek black box which is purring away in his brother’s hands like a miniature engine. Sam may not be as good a mechanic as his brother, but he’s no fool, and he knows that’s no part of the Impala; it doesn’t look anything like a part of any car, at least, not in this century. Maybe in 2150.

“…Dean? What am I looking at here; what is this?” he asks.

“She’s… she… take her, Sam, she’s warm – she’s alive!” Dean pushes the box at Sam and he takes it, rather reluctantly, his mind racing through scenarios. The most realistic idea he can come up with is that Dean has somehow made a wish for the Impala to come alive, and Sam is now standing here holding her beating heart; it says a lot about their lives that this is even remotely plausible. The box is, indeed, warm, and although it looks metallic, it feels slightly soft to his touch, pliable like very heavy plastic. He squeezes, very gently, by way of experiment, then nearly drops the thing when it twitches in his hands, giving out a louder, startled purr.

“Sam..!” Dean’s tone is scandalised and he snatches the box back, cradling it to his chest and cooing over it, like it was a baby or a kitten that Sam had nearly dropped on the floor.

“There, there,” he croons, stroking the box, which sets up an increased crescendo of purring. “Uncle Sammy didn’t mean to frighten you, he’s just a big clumsy oaf. We forgive him, don’t we, sweetheart? Yes we do,” his head comes up suddenly and he gives Sam a glare that could melt rocks, “but if you ever drop her again, Sam,” he continues in a completely different tone, “I will kill you myself, I swear to God..!”

Sam backs away, hands held out. He is starting to be really worried for Dean’s sanity now, and his smile is placating. Keeping his voice level and soft, he says,

“I’m sorry, I was just startled; I didn’t drop it – her! I wouldn’t. It’s okay, Dean. Now do you mind telling me what’s going on, what you’ve got there?”

Dean humphs and glares but looks a little mollified, and he relaxes out of the hunched, protective posture he had taken over the strange device.

“It’s a baby,” he says, sounding awed and… pleased.

“A… a baby?” Sam stares. Dean stares back, grinning like a fool.

“Dude, seriously. A baby what?” Sam is thinking about calling Bobby, or possibly tackling his brother and tying him up first, but he doesn’t want to harm the object Dean is obsessing about; after all, it might not be evil, even though it’s plainly driven Dean out of his tiny mind.

Dean blinks, then flushes deep red, and this is just getting weirder and weirder, Sam thinks.

“Well, ah, you see, it happened like this… ah, I mean. Um.”

“Dean,” Sam says, very calmly though he can’t believe he’s about to say what he is next. “Are you trying to tell me that, somehow, you and the Impala have had a baby?” There is a deeply peculiar logic to the idea, after all. He knows how much Dean loves that car, she’s always been his first girl, and well… wishes, and other magic, can be damned strange. Though even a walking, talking teddy bear has nothing on this.

Dean is looking more embarrassed than Sam has ever seen him, and he can’t look Sam in the eyes as he replies, “Um, yeah, that’s about the sum of it.”

There is a short, palpable silence.

“… And it happened how, exactly?” Sam prods, and he thinks he should win some kind of award for this, staying calm in the face of this madness. Maybe an Apocalypse wouldn’t be such a bad thing; the world is clearly in need of a reset, somehow.

But it’s hard to be negative in the teeth of the obvious affection, wonder and pride Dean is showing in his new… charge. It’s not as though there’s been much to make him happy of late.

Dean seems curiously reluctant to answer, taking refuge in cuddling and crooning over the strange black box, scratching it gently with his finger tips and getting a warm buzz in response. Sam tries again.

“Dean! How. Did. It. Happen? Did you make a wish?”

Dean looks up at that. “What? No! Why would I… No this wasn’t a wish, don’t be stupid Sam,” and Sam feels that really, under the circumstances, this accusation is highly unwarranted.

“So tell me, Dean; what happened? People don’t normally go around breeding with vehicles, in the world of the sane, so please, if you’re not just doing this to mess with me, would you just explain?”

Dean mumbles something, ducking his head down to the box.

“I beg your pardon, I didn’t quite catch that..?” Sam is sarcastically polite, his patience nearing breaking point.

“I said, it’s-a-wonder-what-angel-lube-can-do,” Dean rattles off through clenched teeth, and if he goes any redder, Sam is worried he’ll bust a vein.

“… Angel lube?” Sam repeats incredulously, wondering if he heard that right. And oh God, he could accept that Dean had somehow made his car magically, miraculously pregnant, but he’d really been thinking along the lines of a spell, not actual sex, involving lube, and yes Dean loves his car but really that kind of behaviour is just taking things too far, and Sam won’t ever be able to sit down inside her again, and… *Breathe*, he tells himself, now is not the time to panic. Your brother has clearly gone insane, and needs your help.

Dean is avoiding his eyes again.

“Dean, what… what is angel lube?” Sam tries again, dreading the answer, with vague, horrible suspicions lurking at the corners of his brain, because he didn’t miss how close Dean and Castiel seemed to be, back when they were looking after the stricken angel, and now the whole situation seems to be slipping towards the ‘miraculous’ rather than the ‘magical’…

“It’s just, okay, you remember how – how when Cas was wounded, his wings, they wouldn’t heal, and there was all this kinda… this glowing stuff?”

“Yes, I remember; it was his Grace, wasn’t it, growing a new pair of wings and leaking out through the cuts – so?”

“Well,” Dean stumbles on, “it – we – I mean, we were having sex, in, in the back of the car, and – there wasn’t anything else to hand, not like I could’ve used WD40, and…”

“Oh DEAN, no, you didn’t; God, that’s gross!” Sam is genuinely horrified, and also can’t understand why Dean wasn’t struck by lightning and sent straight back to Hell for this.

“Hey, it wasn’t my idea! And it wasn’t that gross! It felt… good, and it… it smelled good, it was nothing like blood, and it just seemed like a good idea at the time, you know how these things happen?” Dean looks at Sam, his eyes beseeching him not to freak out, and he stands there cradling the impossible purring box, which is somehow alive, and Sam wants to get to the bottom of this, so he pushes his disgust down and tries to stay on track. He can process – or repress – his brother’s unnatural sexual habits later.

“Okay, okay, so you used… that… for lube, but what does that have to do with..?” Sam looks down at the box meaningfully.

“Well, see, it was his Grace, wasn’t it,” Dean says as though that should clear everything up. When Sam just looks at him blankly, he sighs, and continues, “Angelic Grace? Pretty much the most creative substance in the universe? When Anna’s Grace fell to earth, she made a giant tree.”

“Okay,” Sam says slowly, “I concede your point… but why this? If you’re trying to say some of Castiel’s… Grace got out and spontaneously formed life, then why a baby car, why not a … a kitten, or a primrose, or..? I just don’t get it.”

“Because it wasn’t spontaneous,” Dean wriggles uncomfortably. “It didn’t do it on its own, it was a, a catalyst.”

Sam looks at him.

“Because, you know, the lu… Grace,” Dean catches the look on Sam’s face and hurriedly changes what he was going to say, “it kinda got everywhere, and, and it wasn’t the only stuff that got…”

“Right, got you,” Sam interrupts more forcefully than he intended, but his brain just caught up with some explicit imagery that he is never, ever going to forgive Dean for, and sweet Jesus, he really isn’t going to be able to sit in the Impala ever again.

There is another, extremely uncomfortable silence, broken only by the soft purring of the box in Dean’s hands. The box that is his child, sired on his own car, by the procreative catalyst of an angel’s Grace. The universe has just gotten officially insane, Sam thinks, and he wonders if everything isn’t just some kind of whacked out dream he’s having, maybe a side-effect of his powers, or someone slipped dream-root into his coffee, and can he please wake up now?

Apparently not.

“When she grows up, you could maybe… I mean, she’ll need someone to drive her?” Dean says it like a peace offering, and really, that is generous of him. Though who else he would trust behind the wheel of his own flesh and blood, Sam can’t imagine. He stares at the box. Dean stares back, hopefully.

Almost without volition, Sam reaches out and touches a gentle fingertip to the polished metal… skin. The box thrums happily. It’s still just a box though, living or not, and it doesn’t look much like a car.

“You sure it’s… I mean, will she grow..?” Sam asks, his voice hushed, as though he doesn’t want the box to hear.

“Course she’ll grow!” Dean is indignant. “She was only just born, Sam, she’s like… she’s like an egg, or a seed. She’ll grow, you’ll see, and she’ll be just like her mother.”

“Well, a slightly newer model,” Sam avers, and then suddenly he grins, seeing the beautiful absurdity of it all. “We’ll have to give her a name. They never made a Chevrolet Angel, did they?”

Dean snorts. “That’ll go straight to Cas’s head; who’s the daddy here? More like Chevy Winchester,” he argues.

“Yeah, Dean, but you can’t leave him out of it,” Sam presses. “It couldn’t have happened without him, and it seems… I mean, he might not be the father, but technically, he’s kind of a second dad. Don’t you think?”

Dean rolls his eyes. They bicker a little more, but it’s good natured, the brotherly sparring they’ve grown to miss as events loom larger and grittier, sapping the fun from life. The little black box purrs contentedly in Dean’s arms, and Sam relaxes, feeling that everything’s going to be all right, even if it is a whole new level of nuts.

“Man, we gotta call Bobby,” Dean says suddenly. There is no way either of them wants to miss his reaction, so Dean sets the box down tenderly on a cushion and they stand together, each with an ear pressed to the phone as he dials.

There is a long silence at the end of the line after they finish explaining everything to Bobby (a process interspersed with terse grunts of ‘the Hell?’ and ‘you don’t say…’ and ‘well, there’s a marvel’), and Sam is just starting to wonder whether Bobby has gone to make another call, and men in white coats will come crashing through the door at any second, when the gruff voice down the line says ‘Hah! Got it. You boys are idjits. You gotta call her the Chevrolet Angel Maria.”

“Angel Maria,” Dean breathes, and they can feel each other nodding against the phone. It’s a good name. Feminine, but not too sappy; angels are kickass, and she’s going to be a righteous fighting machine just like her mother; and Maria, for her human grandmother.

Of course, she ends up being just ‘Cammie’ for short, but that’s okay, because cars need nicknames just like everyone else; and it’s a lot easier for a panic-stricken parent to shout across parking lots when she forgets she’s not supposed to go far by herself. And she likes it, because it sounds so similar to ‘Sammy’, and she just hopes that one day she really will be big enough for him to drive her, because Uncle Sam is so big, and she can’t imagine how his long legs will fold up and fit in there behind her engine.

But for now, she’s just a purring black box with the barest awareness of her surroundings; but already she knows where she belongs, and she’s proud to be the newest member of the Winchester family, her daddy’s little angel.

* * * * *

“Uh, Dean?”

“Yeah?”

Sam gestures to the cushion, his eyes bugging out.

“Dude, don’t be such a sissy. It’s just an oil leak. Not like we actually have to pay for damages, either.”

“It’s… a spreading leak,” Sam squeaks.

“Fine, I’ll go and get a bucket. Man, if you’d only been this easy when you were a baby…”

**Author's Note:**

> Look out for future instalments: 
> 
> Teething with Wheels  
Cammie and the Monster Truck  
Cammie to the Rescue!  
Cammie Gets her Wings
> 
> And other exciting adventures of Cammie! The Super(natural) Car!
> 
> (No, not really. Well, possibly. Who knows ;)


End file.
